


Wolf's Reign: Sneak Peak-A Dragon's Tale

by KrimzonStriker



Series: Renaissance [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Past, Past Character Death, Self-Reflection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 04:24:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15525990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrimzonStriker/pseuds/KrimzonStriker
Summary: MAJOR SPOILER WARNINGS FOR FUTURE WOLF'S REIGN CHAPTERS.A reflection on the life of the Last Dragon, and an exploration of who he really was, and what he means for those he left behind





	Wolf's Reign: Sneak Peak-A Dragon's Tale

**Author's Note:**

> I'm alive!! Thankfully all my places reno stuff is finally winding down and I can finally access the internet and my computer again. Huzzah! That said everyone has my deepest apologies for all the delays and my gratitude for sticking with this story despite all that. So as a reward for your perseverance I'm finally going to publish that sneak peek examination of Rhaegar I had been hinting at in comments for months now. I'd put this scene in the latter half of the story, so if you're not interested in spoilers now's your final chance to turn away.
> 
> Still here? Alright, well let me explain the purpose of this scene first before we begin. It's meant to address some of my biggest complaints regarding the depictions of Rhaegar in a lot of other works, which I often find being either oversimplified or way too harsh or cynical in their characterizations. All too often there's a real failure to explore the character in-depth, to examine his motivations with both a critical but also objective eye. To really get to know the character and all his complexity versus just boxing him in to his stereotypes one way or the other. Well today I plan to change that trend, in this small preview which I hope will start getting those who read it to begin thinking a bit more critically on the matter. And hopefully I do it well enough that you find it enjoyable, and something that can tidy you over as I finally get back to churning out chapter 5. Again, thanks for all your patience, and as always comments and questions are always appreciated at any time :D

Queen Rhaella finally approached her grandson in the castle library several weeks later, once all the rumors had finally started to abate and the furor over her households’ recent drama had died down. She had staved off this confrontation for a while now, partly to give him space so that he could settle himself, and partly because this was her first chance to actually catch him alone. Daenerys had been especially clingy with Jon ever since, never leaving his side if she could help it, taking to even crawling into his bed to sleep next to him every night now (much to his shock whenever he awoke the following morning), as if she was afraid he might try to slip away from her again. And the Kingsguard quietly turning a blind eye every time she ‘snuck’ into his room.

Jon didn’t seem to particularly mind, as he understood her worries and still felt contrite over his recent behavior. He actually seemed to enjoy spending time with her like this anyway, as they both indulged in their newfound feelings for one another. Whether it be holding hands wherever they went, to resting against one another’s shoulders whenever they sat together. Rhaella had even accidently walked in on both of them in Aegon’s Garden, Jon’s eyes closed and his head resting on Daenerys lap while she gently stroked his hair with a smile, before silently walking right back where she came from, surprising them both and leaving them to sputter in embarrassment in her wake. In fact, their public displays of affection had set off a whole new slew of rumors that had drowned out the previous ones. 

Yet Jon’s melancholy remained. Looking at him now though, Rhaella couldn’t help but be struck by the image as he sat silently on the ledge, a book fallen limply against his lap, staring wistfully out the window. Just like Rhaegar used to. “You really are your father’s son, Jon.”

If he was surprised by her presence, his eyes didn’t show it, as he brought them directly to meet hers. “In all the good ways or all the bad, grandmother?”

“In your own way, my little wolf. But it’s all the more reason why you need to stop trying so hard to _be_ exactly like him. Or more precisely, your ideal image of him. And it’s why you need to stop condemning Rhaegar, and yourself, for not always being able to live up to that ideal.”

“I’m not-!”

“No?” She cut off, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “Well, that is good to hear then. Because it would be hypocritical of you to do so, since you don’t really know or understand anything about him, Jon.”

“Grandmother?” he questioned, startled by her harsh tone.

Rhaella let out deep, painful sigh now, steeling herself for what she needed to say next. What she had never said to _anyone_ before, after over three decades of trying to bury it away. But Jon had a right to know. He was the only who did.

“I think it’s time I finally told you about your father, Jon. _Really_ told you about him, I mean. Not about what he was like or what he did, as I have before. But about who he was as a person, what motivated him, and what drove him to make the choices that he did. To do that though, I need to start at the beginning. Back to the very day he was born.”

“I know all about Summerhall, grandmother. Maester Yan-” Jon quietly insisted, before she cut him off.

“Then you _don’t_ know, Jon!” she objected, vehemently, before suddenly slumping in dejection against the window herself, staring beyond the scenery laid out before them. Playing out that awful moment once again before her eyes. “You could _never_ hope to understand. No one can. Books and songs and maseters can’t tell you what it was truly like to come out of that hell. You have to see it to truly know. To know what it was like to be born in the middle of so much death. To have the screams of nearly all of our family mixed with your own, as the fire consumed them whole and the smoke charred out their very lungs, while you were just trying to take your very first breaths of life.”

Rhaella was visibly shaking now, while Jon continued to sit there, both stunned and horrified by her account. Taking another deep breath to try and calm herself, the Dowager Queen strode over to sit beside her grandson on the other end of the ledge, the little prince pulling back his legs to make room for her as he continued to raptly listen.

“Your father…” the queen whispered mournfully, “woke up every day, wondering why he was still alive, Jon.”


End file.
